The Witness: A Novel (58 page)

“Your invisible buyers,” Jenny commented.

“Exactly so,” Mr. Hollister agreed. “Of course, whenever a book is sold, the inventory online must be updated. Periodic printouts can tell us when a book came in, when it sold, which categories are the best performers, and so forth. Are we pricing our books correctly? Internet searches can answer that question. Keeping a record of our expenses on each buying trip will show whether such excursions are profitable. I’ve already begun to scan online sources for reviews of books that may be interesting. Expanding our stock via online purchases could be more economical.”

“Reggie, a book must be held,” Esther said. “A book has its own personality. You won’t be able to tell from your computer whether a book will belong here.”

“At the very least,” Mr. Hollister continued, “I’d like to be able to order books online for our visible customers, notify them by e-mail when a special order has come in—”

“Enough!” Esther exclaimed. “You’ll discourage Jenny before she has even started.”

Mr. Hollister cordially relented.

“We’re just back from a trip,” Esther said. “I priced our new selections yesterday, and if you’ll help me put them on the shelves, you can familiarise yourself with our system and make friends with some of our long-standing residents.”

“Miss Jeffries, how much time will you be willing to give us?”

“I can come in most afternoons during the week. No weekends.”

They heard a bell tinkle. “Gracious, there’s our first guest, and I don’t even have the music on,” Esther said. “Jenny, if you see a book you like, you may borrow it. In the meantime, could you turn on the radio in the little office downstairs? And there’s a fridge there if you’d like to have a cold drink. And we always have the kettle on for tea.”

Jenny couldn’t wait to tell Colin about the Hollisters, how Esther wanted to hold the books and Mr. Hollister wanted to catalog them. How Esther loved to talk to her “guests” and didn’t pressure them to buy, although her enthusiasm for her “little charges” usually had a positive result.

Mr. Hollister knew that technology was necessary to help a business grow. He didn’t mind nudging the customer toward the cash register. “The furniture encourages indecisiveness,” he’d said. “Let ‘em stand, and they’ll say aye or nay faster.” He placed a high premium on accuracy, but that didn’t bother her. Besides, with his emphasis on technical information, he would be less likely than his wife to ask personal questions. They were the first two people Jenny had met who didn’t know how she’d spent her last year, and she wanted to keep it that way.

J
enny had only worked at Hollister’s several days, and already it was a big plus. She was happier, and Colin was the beneficiary. When he opened the door to his flat, she greeted him with a hug and a smile. And the way she kissed him: He would give “all his worldly worth for this; / To waste his whole heart in one kiss.”

“You and Tennyson,” she laughed.

The weekend weather was glorious, and during their Saturday walk on the Heath, she had asked about birth control, accepting his assurance that he would see to it. That night after they’d been involved for a few minutes, she surprised him by asking if he wanted to go into the bedroom. He did, very much. They’d already shed their shirts, and she lifted her arms so he could remove her bra. “Jen, you’re beautiful,” he said, kissing her. She stepped out of her jeans. He stretched out next to her and took her in his arms. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

“Colin, yes,” she gasped. He began to undo his belt. She went suddenly still. He heard a strangled sound and looked up.

“Stop—you have to stop!” she cried, rolling away from him. The tightness in her chest made it hard to breathe. “I can’t, I can’t!”

It took a moment for his shock to pass. “Jenny, did I do something wrong?”

“No—I don’t know—all of a sudden—like someone flipped a switch—I was afraid—of being naked—of what you’d do—”

“Jen, I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have panicked.”

“What now?”

She shivered. “I think I need to get dressed.”

He collected her clothes. She pulled them on haphazardly, and he watched her go. In a few minutes he heard her shower running. He took his own shower then decided to check on her. “Jen, we should talk.”

He looked so handsome standing there, the light from the sitting room behind him. His voice was gentle. How could she have pushed him away? Her failure gripped her chest like a vise. “Do you want to call it quits? Do you want to send me away?”

He went to her. “Jen, of course not—why would you think such a thing?”

“Because I can’t satisfy you. I wanted to, and I couldn’t.”

“Jenny—Jen—I love you. I’m not going to desert you at the first sign of trouble.”

“Colin, I wish—I wish—”

“Jenny, listen to me. I want to give you pleasure. If the pleasure stops, then I’m going to stop.” A frightening thought occurred to him. “Jen, do you want out? Do you want to go?”

She shook her head.

“Then let’s see this through. Every couple has problems—this is ours, that’s all.”

She leaned against his chest, and she felt safe in spite of everything. “Colin, I love you so much. You made me feel—wonderful. I wanted you very badly. I don’t know where it went.”

“Jenny, we’ll try again, when you want to. But I want you to know—the further we go, the better it will be. For both of us.” He reached out and caressed her face, running the tips of his fingers across her cheeks and lips. “The loving feelings between a man and a woman make sex beautiful, Jenny. It’ll happen for us.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

O
n Saturday evening, after a second disappointment, Colin held her close, wishing his kisses could comfort her.

“Why isn’t love enough?” she sobbed.

“Because love and trust are both required.”

“But I trust you with my life!”

“This is a different level of trust. When a woman opens herself to a man, she is at her most vulnerable. I’m not surprised you’re having trouble—I know what you’ve been through. It’s bound to affect you.” She had calmed somewhat. “I owe you an apology, Jen. I promised you an old-fashioned courtship. Perhaps it would help if you knew what my intentions are: marriage and family.”

Her mouth fell open. “Is that a proposal?”

He smiled. “An informal one.”

“How can you ask me that when I’ve just failed you?”

“Because you haven’t failed. Because I love you and believe in you. I know the sort of determination you have. I’ve fancied you for a long time, and I want us to have a life together, here and hereafter.”

“You believe in that?”

“God is infinite, Jenny—infinite in power, infinite in love, infinite in second chances. Would He give us a limited life? I don’t think so.”

She rested her head against his chest, soothed by the sound of his heart and his voice.

“The Bible says that faith is hope made certain. I think commitment makes love certain. You don’t have to give me an answer now, though. It takes time to heal.”

“Colin, I love you so much.”

“I’m going to enjoy buying you jewellery—an engagement ring to start, when you’re ready.”

She sat up suddenly, and a giggle escaped her. “So that’s why you gave me an empty jewelry box!”

Just one of the parts of her life he wanted to fill. He kissed her.

M
r. Hollister had been busy. Over the weekend, he had purchased a digital camera. He had spent the Monday asterisking the books on the online inventory list that he wanted a fuller description of. When Jenny came in on Tuesday, he explained that she needed to locate each starred title on the shelf, determine if the cover were sufficiently attractive to stimulate visual interest, and if so, insert the photo of it into the computer before adding the rest of the requisite information. He wanted a greater percentage of sales among the more expensive volumes and hoped this special treatment could bring that result. Clearly no grass was going to grow under Mr. Hollister’s feet—this was only her fifth day at work, and he was already procuring equipment for her use. She wondered how many of the photographed selections would have to sell to pay for it.

“Jenny, there’s a man here to see you,” Esther called out.

She hurried down the stairs. It was Simon. She looked at her watch. He must be on his way to report in. She introduced him to Mrs. Hollister. “Could I take a short break?”

“By all means,” Esther said, noting the policeman’s stern expression and wondering if she should endeavor to keep them in the shop. “May I bring you both a cup of tea?”

“No, ma’am, thank you, but we’ll be going for a walk.” He took Jenny’s arm.

Esther watched them go. Reggie had said a Chief Inspector Sinclair had recommended Jenny. This young officer was a sergeant. Had the chief inspector introduced Jenny to his colleagues?

Simon guided her up South End Road and into the Heath’s South Hill Park. The path was lined on both sides with lofty plane trees in their summer fullness. A young man in faded blue jeans walked by, his dog more eager to reach the park than his master. She saw a toddler in pink overalls welded to her mother’s hand.

“What’s the news about your family?” she asked.

“My mum’s a sister now. A senior nurse,” he explained.

“You come by your medical talent honestly,” she decided. “And your brother?”

“Martin’s just received orders to
HMS York
. He’s a sonar tech. That’s his warfare specialty.”

“When can I meet him?”

“He won’t have leave for a while, but that’s okay. He sounds like the sailor he is—salty language. Might upset you.”

“Still protecting me?” she teased. “Have you been busy lately? At work?”

“No, my team’s spare at the moment, but we still need to be ready for the off.”

“Speak English, please,” she said, wanting to keep him talking, to feel a connection. He must be relaxed or he wouldn’t have lapsed into the vernacular, but her recent difficulties with physical communication made oral communication critical.

“Spare—extra, backup. But you have to have your equipment and your mind prepared. If a call comes, you may have to move fast. No time to think. You go on automatic.” He paused. “It’s strange. After hours of training—extended briefings—long waits—a deployment may be over in seconds.” She wasn’t looking at him. “You’re tense. Has something happened?” They stepped off the path, and he put his arm loosely around her shoulders. “No one will pay us any mind, love.”

She leaned into him. “Simon, I’m in trouble. Don’t laugh—but I’ve been feeling so normal! I have a job, I go shopping, I cook dinner.”

“Those are important steps.”

“But not enough. Real couples do more than that.”

He knew all about what real couples did.

“We were—close—and then I was afraid, and—and—”

He waited, knowing, not wanting to know.

“I—I couldn’t do it. All I could think of was getting away.”

He was glad Sinclair had been patient. Glad Sinclair had been denied. “Did he do anything you didn’t want him to do?”

She shook her head.

“Was he angry, Jenny?”

It was The Voice, but it was a comfort, because that voice always knew what to do. “No, and I hurt him. I never thought anything could hurt so much. I need to find a way to get through it.”

“No, Jenny. If a man fancies a woman, he wants her to fancy him as well, not endure him.” He took a deep breath. She had changed her shampoo. Her hair smelled like peaches. “Physical love is very important to a man,” he said quietly. “A man needs—”

“An outlet?”

Sometimes, yes, but he didn’t want to think of her as someone’s outlet. “More than that. A man needs to know that he is desired.”

“I felt that, until—until—the last step,” she whispered.

“Jenny, the last step is the most important one.”

“If I could learn to take it, wouldn’t that be enough?”

She spoke of it like a punishment. “Not if he loves you. It wouldn’t be enough for me.”

Her tears welled up, and she dug in her pocket for a tissue. Simon never had any handkerchiefs.

“Jenny, there’s no easy answer here. You have more to overcome than most women.”

“Then the monster wins,” she said bleakly.

They walked a little farther into the park. “No, but you’re going to need help. What about Knowles?”

“I wish I didn’t need Dr. Knowles. I wish the monster were dead!”

If he ever had the chance, he’d rip his heart out.

They turned back toward the bookstore. “I promised my father I’d get help and I haven’t. Things were going well. I thought I could handle it all by myself.”

“Haven’t I taught you anything? Don’t go it alone. Better to combine forces.”

Alone—that’s what she was a lot of the time. Most days only strangers spoke to her, except for Colin and now the Hollisters. She remembered how Simon had rubbed her hand long ago, and she took his now, wanting to connect with someone. Combine forces. “Thank you, Simon. For telling me the truth. For not showing pity.”

Esther Hollister watched them through the picture window. The young policeman did not kiss Jenny. She could not tell whether the hug he gave her was a romantic one. What was the relationship between these two?

C
olin and Jenny tried varying the setting and the approach to their lovemaking, to no avail. Less light, more light, glass of wine, no wine—none of it made a difference. Each time there came a point beyond which she could not go, and each time she felt worse, because she couldn’t accept his proposal if this problem weren’t solved. Marry a man you couldn’t make love to? Their wedding night would be a disaster. She was desperate, alternately at war with and grieving over the actions of her body. “Colin, I want to see Dr. Knowles.”

Relieved, he had rung the psychiatrist. “Jenny’s back,” he said. “We’re serious about each other, but she’s having trouble with the physical side of our relationship. She wants to follow through, but her passion turns to fear, and her physical responses shut down. She’s willing to come in.”